


Far Away

by galileos_telescope



Series: The Lyrium Elf [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Death, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:03:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galileos_telescope/pseuds/galileos_telescope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris' lyrium has become tainted with the Blight. No one found out until it was too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Away

The day had started as any other. Varric sat near the fireplace, heat of the flames tempered by the cool breeze from the door next to him. From here, he could see everyone who came to the Inquisition, every person who had ever been involved. Purely for his stories, of course. He needed to know which of these people would affect the way life worked here. Whether it was loud, demanding nobles, or those from the various places they visited, to whom the Inquisitor had rescued, helped, or changed their lives.

He was working on the next chapter of Swords and Shields. The Inquisitor, Avery, had asked for it as a gift for Cassandra. He never quite understood why people enjoyed the story, he thought it was the worst he’s written. Maybe he should try to get Aveline and Donnic to Skyhold. What I wouldn’t give to see Seeker’s face when I tell her they’re the ones it’s based on. He was trying not to laugh, but he couldn’t help to smirk. Maybe she’d finally relax a little.

Varric laid down his quill, and reached for the other manuscript he was working on. Breach in the Sky. A working title, of course, for the story of the Inquisitor. He had to add Avery’s latest accomplishment, killing the Gamoran Stormrider in the Exalted Plains. He wouldn’t publish it. Everyone would know the story. Maybe he’d leave it behind in Skyhold. Let someone find it someday, when they’ve long since left this place. Maybe I’ll send it to Broody. He needs something to practice with. The Book of Shartan gets a little tiring after the fifth time.

He heard the regular chatter among the people in the great hall, hoping to maybe get a glimpse of the man who saved Empress Celene, the one who defeated the mighty Grey Wardens. They never seemed to notice the dwarf. He could hear the footsteps of someone in a hurry, trying to get out of the cold. What shocked him, though, was they stopped to stand in front of him.

“Serah? I’ve a message for you. It’s urgent.”

Varric cocked one eyebrow, but he shrugged and took the letter from the young man. That’s when he noticed the Starkhaven crest upon his uniform.

“Wait, did Choir Boy send you? I don’t hear from him very often.”

The messenger’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The Prince of Starkhaven did send this message. And told me to tell you it was important that you read it as soon as you can.”

And with that, the messenger turned on his heel, and marched out. Varric looked back down to the table, to the half finished manuscript, and to the letter in his hand. The writing was as perfect as he’d ever seen. Sebastian was a bit of a stickler for legibility. Varric sighed, pulled out a knife, and sliced open the envelope. He didn’t notice the quiver of nerves in his fingers while he pulled the letter out.

Why is Sebastian writing to me? Maybe he’s pissed. We did just help Aveline keep him out of Kirkwall. The last thing we need is his army showing up on the Inquisition’s doorstep next.

Varric unfolded the letter carefully, and stared at the writing. It became shaky closer to the end of the letter. That’s never a good sign.

Varric,

I’m writing this not as the Prince of Starkhaven, but as a friend. You have a right to know this. I believe you should have been contacted sooner, but I was asked to refrain from doing so.

Fenris appeared at the gates of the castle about two weeks ago. When he arrived, he had been badly injured in a fight with the Venatori. We’d been doing our best to prevent them from entering our borders, but obviously there was a level of failure on my part. I had seen that his injuries were tended to, and that he was welcome to stay as long as he needed.

That was when I found out something far worse was wrong. Do you remember the red lyrium idol Meredith had built into her sword? I’m sure you have seen all the deposits that have appeared throughout Thedas since our days in Kirkwall. What I was unaware of until then was the lyrium in Fenris’ skin had been tainted by those same deposits while he was tracking slavers through Orlais.

He asked me to keep this a secret from Hawke’s former companions. I told him that they would want to know, in case they learned of something that could have helped. He didn’t want to feel pitied. I did everything I could to help him. Ferris was kept awake by nightmares, that would make him believe he was back in Minrathous, as a slave. I stayed by his side, I tried to keep him comfortable. He started to lose his mind near the end. I hate to say, but it was probably one of the few times I heard the man laugh.

He held on for the entirety of those two weeks. The last few days… he couldn’t remember his own name, let alone how to speak Trade. It was a blessing when he finally went to the Maker’s side. He was suffering.

I wish I could have written sooner. I have heard of the Inquisition researching red lyrium, maybe he could have been cured. He should not have gone through this. He deserved more than this.

There will be a funeral for him. A week from now. I’ve sent word to as many as I could still contact. He does not deserve to be forgotten after everything he’s done.

Sincerely,

Sebastian Vael

Varric read the letter over, and over, until his eyes began to hurt. He needed to find the one line that would tell him it was all a joke. A cruel, twisted joke. But it didn’t exist. Of course this isn’t a lie. That would be too perfect.

He stood quickly, and headed off to the Herald’s Rest. He needed a stiff drink. Maybe to drink himself into a stupor. He didn’t notice Cassandra watch him from the training grounds. Nor did he notice one of Leliana’s agents carry the letter to Cullen’s office, or Dorian peering through the library window down to him. 

He pulled up a stool near the bar, and ordered the strongest drink they had. It was downed in one go. This carried on for a while.

Cullen came up behind Varric, and pulled the tankard from his hand. He handed it back to the bartender.

“Curly, I wasn’t done with that. I was just getting started.” Varric moaned, his head resting on his arm.

Cullen placed one hand on Varric’s shoulder, and pulled him upright. “You should go to Starkhaven. It’s not an issue.”

Varric pulled his shoulder from Cullen’s grasp. “Can I just get drunk in peace, for once? I need a moment.”

Cullen hesitated, but nodded slowly. “If you need anything, my office is not far.” He turned to walk away. “But Varric? Be careful.”

And so the night carried on. Varric struggled to stay coherent. The night began to blur together. He never noticed when the tears started to roll down his cheeks. The drunker he got, the less he realized he was thinking out loud, he was less able to filter what he was saying.

“It’s my fault. I found that idol in the Deep Roads. My fault it was brought to the surface. My fault… my fault my home was destroyed in a war that has practically destroyed the world…”

Cassandra and Dorian came up behind him.

“All of this is my fault. I did this.”

“I do think he’s had too much to drink. Maybe we should get him to his quarters, let him sleep it off.” Dorian glanced at the Seeker.

Varric reached for Bianca, leaning against the bar. His eyebrows scrunched together when he missed, again and again. Dorian suppressed a laugh, and he reached for the crossbow, pulling it away from the inebriated dwarf.

“Don’t touch Bianca. I’m a very jealous person.” He made a move to stand from the barstool, and just about toppled to the floor.

Cassandra grabbed one of Varric’s arms, and hauled him upright. She could feel him struggling. It was sloppy, uncoordinated, but he just wanted to stay there and drink away the news he had received.

“None of this is your fault, Varric.”

Varric glared up at her. She almost forgot he was drunk, with the intensity of his gaze. “The red lyrium came to Kirkwall… because of me. It killed my brother. It led to the problems between the mages and templars. If… if…”

“Stop talking. You will only make yourself feel worse. You did nothing wrong. You had no way to know what you would find in the Deep Roads, or what it would cause.” Cassandra was genuinely concerned for the dwarf’s well being. “Dorian, please find Commander Cullen, have him arrange for passage to Starkhaven. Preferably later in the day tomorrow.”

Dorian raised one eyebrow. “And leave you here with a very drunk, very distraught dwarf? I think not.”

“Dorian. Go, now.”

Dorian turned on his heel, and walked away. Cassandra pulled up a stool, and pulled Varric back to his. He pulled himself back into his seat, and went to reach for his tankard. It wasn't there. Varric looked up and down the bar, and groaned.

“What did you do, Seeker?”

“What happened, Varric?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“So are you. Must I have Leliana do what she does best?”

Varric crossed his arms on the counter, and rested his head against them. And the truth started flowing. Cassandra placed her hand on his shoulder, and listened. She heard his voice break when he started talking about what the red lyrium did to his friend.

“We didn’t always get along, but if it came down to it, he was better family than Bartrand was. I mean, he didn’t deserve to go like that. He was a good guy.”

Cassandra looked down. It was hard to listen to Varric, even though she had never met the elf before. She gestured for the barkeep, and whispered something to him. He went back into the store room, and came back with two tankards, and placed them on the counter.

“Do not tell the others, but one last drink, to honour him. I recall you mentioning on a few occasions that he enjoyed Aggregio.”

Varric looked up at her, confusion written all over his face. Cassandra grabbed one drink, and raised it.

“To Fenris. May he find peace at the side of the Maker.” Cassandra said, her voice strong.

“To Broody.”

They drank in silence, until Varric dozed off. Cassandra waited a few moments before asking for help to get him to his quarters. The last thing he needed was a stiff neck in addition to the hangover to deal with in the morning.

______________________________

The funeral was small, attended by the few people that knew Fenris. Merrill had brought flowers, no one quite knowing how they lasted the journey from Kirkwall. They were everywhere. Aveline and Donnic paid their respects, and stood close to the back. Isabela couldn’t go near where his ashes were. She was used to death, but she never considered Fenris to be the first to go. Bethany was quiet, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her robe.

Varric struggled the most. He had barely looked up from the ground in front of him, even as Sebastian went on with the service.

The only ones missing were Anders, who could not risk facing Sebastian; and Hawke.

As everyone began to head their separate ways, Sebastian offering to them a stay in his home, rather than some of the inns throughout the city, but Varric hadn’t moved. Everyone glanced his direction, concern written across their faces. He hadn’t said a word the whole time he had been there.

Varric felt rain start to fall, soaking his jacket. He pulled a hood over his head, stared up, and smirked.

“Y’know, thunder generally works better if you want our attention.”

He took a few steps, heading towards the warmth of a fire, maybe with a comfy chair next to it, but stopped, staring back towards the sky.

“I hope you find Hawke up there.”

______________________________

When he finally returned to Skyhold, he threw his manuscripts in the fire, and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. He decided there was a story more important to be remembered. One that would change the way the world worked. Maybe he can give the story to Dorian, to show him one of the ways he had to change Tevinter.

He wrote the story of an escaped slave who helped change the fate of Kirkwall.

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a post on mine on tumblr: http://galileos-telescope.tumblr.com/post/111337938075/imagine-if-the-lyrium-in-fenris-markings-was
> 
> This is part one of two, and also the first thing I've posted here.
> 
> Find me at: galileos-telescope.tumblr.com


End file.
